3rd Degree (Women's Murder Club 3)

Molinari turned and faced me. “Just so there’s no doubts, I’m here because the moment you walked into that meeting, I, well… bells started going off. And since then, the only thing I’ve been impressed with more than how good you are on the job is how good you looked once I pulled that towel off you.”

I took a breath and stared into those very blue eyes. “You just make sure you’re not an asshole, Joe Molinari.”

All of a sudden, I shot up in bed. “Oh my God, dinner.”

“Forget the chicken.” Molinari smiled and pulled me closer. “We don’t gotta eat.”

The phone rang. What next?

My first urge was to let it go. I waited for the answering machine to pick up.

When the voice came on, it was Claire’s, sounding urgent. “Lindsay, I’m worried. Pick up if you’re there. Linds?”

I blinked, then rolled over to the night table and fumbled for my phone. “Claire. What’s wrong?”

“Thank God you’re home.” Her voice was tense, unusual for Claire. “It’s Jill. I’m at her house, Lindsay. She’s not here.”

“She had a trial. Did you try the office? She’s probably working late.”

“Of course I tried the office,” Claire shot back. “Jill never showed up today.”

Chapter 62

I BOLTED UP, confused but also afraid. It didn’t make sense. “She said she had a trial, Claire. I’m sure of it.”

“She did have a trial, Lindsay. She just didn’t show. They’ve been looking for her all day.”

I pressed my back against the headboard. When I thought about the possibility of Jill bagging work, not calling in, it didn’t fly.

“That’s not Jill,” I said.

“No,” Claire answered, “that’s not Jill at all.”

Suddenly I was worried. “Claire, do you know what’s going on? What happened with Steve?”

Claire answered, “No. What are you saying?”

“Stay where you are,” I said.

I hung up the phone and sat there for a second. “I’m sorry, Joe, I gotta go.”

A few minutes later I was driving at full speed down Twenty-third over to Castro. I ran through the possibilities: Jill was depressed. She needed some space. She’d gone to her parents’. Any of them could be true. But Jill would never—never—not show up for court.

I finally pulled up in front of her town house on Buena Vista Park. The first thing I noticed was Jill’s sapphire blue 535 still in the driveway.

Claire was waiting on the landing and we hugged. “She doesn’t answer,” she said. “I rang the bell, banged on the door.”

I looked around, didn’t see anyone. “I hate to do this.” Then I broke a pane in the front door and reached inside. I was thinking that Steve could have gotten inside, too—easily.

Immediately, the alarm sounded. I knew the code, 63442, Jill’s state employee number. I punched it in, trying to make up my mind if the alarm being armed was a good sign.

I flicked on a light. I called, “Jill?”

Then I heard Otis barking. The brown lab ran from inside the kitchen.

“Hey, boy.” I patted his back. He seemed happy to see a familiar face. “Where’s Mommy?” I asked. I knew one thing. Jill would never leave him. Steve maybe, but not Otis.

“Jill… Steve?” I called around the house. “It’s Lindsay. And Claire.”